It was only a year ago that I encouraged MusicWeb International’s readers
to give three cheers for Arthaus Musik as it released two separate –
and both very worthwhile – DVD performances of Giselle. They
were a 2005 recording from La Scala, Milan, and another from the Opéra
national de Paris that dated from 2006 (see
here).

Perhaps, then, four cheers are now in order as Arthaus offers
us a third version of Adam’s much-loved masterpiece, also originating
from La Scala but coincidentally sharing its conductor with the Paris
DVD. The performance dates from 1996, making it nine years older than
the other Milan performance and ten years older than the French staging.
As we all know, video recording technology has made immense strides
in the past couple of decades, not least with the introduction of Blu-ray
technology and High Definition Television (HDTV). I was very pleased
to find, nevertheless, that the quality of both the visual image and
the sound on this older recording was more than acceptable.

This production’s biggest asset is undoubtedly Alessandra Ferri. After
beginning her career in London and then moving to New York, she had
switched her main focus to Milan in 1992, achieving the exalted and
very rare status of prima ballerina assoluta. In this performance
she grabs with both her elegant hands the full opportunities offered
by the role.

The eponymous heroine of Giselle is put through the emotional
wringer far more thoroughly than most ballet heroines. Swanilde (Coppélia),
Kitri (Don Quixote) and Lise (La fille mal gardée)
carry on smiling resolutely through their – admittedly rather lesser
– romantic tribulations. Meanwhile, in Tchaikovsky’s scores, Odette
(Swan Lake), Aurora (The Sleeping Beauty) and Clara
(The Nutcracker) seem comparatively emotionally unaffected
- apart, perhaps, from dropping the odd feather or two – by the various
brickbats that life throws at them. Poor Giselle, on the other hand,
not only suffers from a weak constitution but is the victim of a two-faced
seducer who drives her to utter despair and madness before she meets
her merciful end.

Given that we can take the quality of her dancing as a given, what is
so impressive about Ms. Ferri in this performance is her utterly moving
portrayal of the central role. She excels not just in the “losing her
mind” sequence that concludes the first Act and where some ballerinas
virtually chew the scenery in their overacting, but also earlier on
where the subtlety of her expressions and gestures establishes, within
just a few seconds, her character’s shyness, innocence and essential
naïveté. That is very effectively achieved in the sequence where Albrecht
courts her on the bench and where she plucks petals (“He loves me …
He loves me not …”), but look too at the brief moment when she admires
Bathilde’s clothes for an instance of finely judged characterisation.

While Massimo Murru, as Albrecht, partners Ms. Ferri very well, he lacks
her on-stage charisma. I did, though, particularly enjoy his reaction
to Giselle’s death, as he convincingly portrays a mixture of grief,
violent anger and well-earned guilt that creates a genuinely thrilling
air of drama and excitement before the curtain falls. Maurizio Vanadia
is an effective and attractive Hilarion, to the extent that one actually
feels on occasion that he might be - and certainly ought to be - in
with a chance of getting the girl. Marinella Carimati also makes a stronger
than usual impact as Giselle’s mother, in part because this production,
in contrast to many, retains the elaborate mime sequence (18:05-19:06)
where she warns her daughter of the wilis in the woods. The effective
and completely assured Isabel Seabra, though clearly quite some way
from the embodiment of a constitutional monarch, makes a suitably imperious,
cruel Queen Myrthe.

I must also mention the two peasants whose artistry in their Act 1 pas
de deux gives such delight to the Milan audience. That, though,
is hardly a surprise, given that one of them is no less than today’s
ballet superstar Roberto Bolle when he was aged just 21. Even at that
early stage of his career, he gives the impression of owning the stage
and he certainly looks far more of a born aristocrat than does Murru’s
Albrecht. It cannot have been a great surprise when, in the very year
of this performance, Bolle was promoted to principal dancer with the
company, soon thereafter to leave the ranks of the horny-handed village
peasantry for ever and to make the leading role of Albrecht his own,
as he does, in fact, on the 2005 DVD.

The La Scala corps de ballet is on fine form here, whether
as rollicking – if rather too well dressed – peasants in the first Act
or, in the case of the women, as Act 2’s ghostly spirits. They add immensely
to our enjoyment. The orchestra also gives a good account of itself
under Paul Connelly’s direction, though the poor man may feel justifiably
miffed that his surname has been consistently misspelled with just a
single “n” on the DVD packaging and in parts of the enclosed – and otherwise
useful - booklet.

I liked, too, Angelo Sala’s recreation of Alexandre Benois’s sets and
thought Maurizio Montobbio’s lighting especially effective in both Acts,
lending an attractive degree of autumnal shadow and contrast to the
Act 1 village while maintaining the air of supernatural mystery in Act
2.

The presentation for TV and video is also well executed. Unlike some
other directors, Alexandre Tarta has clearly worked out where his cameras
ought to be placed, what they should be filming and when to switch them
from one to another. As a result, we see several interesting and useful
bits of stage business that a less well prepared director might not
have been ready for. To mention just a couple of examples, at 9:49 a
finely positioned shot catches Hilarion’s brief appearance at the rear
of the stage as Albrecht courts Giselle; and at 34:00 as Silvia Scivano
dances to the side of the stage we catch a glimpse of her partner Roberto
Bolle as he smiles encouragingly at her. The only glitch that might
have been avoided occurs very near the end: Giselle’s return into the
grave is a well executed bit of stage business and is well filmed, but
the subsequent medium-shot of Albrecht is held slightly too long so
that we actually see the trapdoor, through which the poor girl descended,
closing up.

This has a strong claim to be one of the best filmed versions of Giselle
currently available and it is certainly among the most enjoyable. Browsing
a ballet internet chat room earlier today, I discovered an old post
from September 2007 when, it seems, this performance was temporarily
off the market. According to the poster, secondhand copies were selling
then at “astronomical” prices. Perhaps, if you’re a lover of Adam’s
long-lived ballet warhorse, it might be a good idea to snap up your
copy now.